


occupying time

by chii



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Bromance, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 08:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/441220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chii/pseuds/chii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha doesn't know what to think about the fact that Clint determines watching bad Russian soaps as 'practicing Russian,' when all he does is make up the plot as he goes along. [genfic, ish.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	occupying time

**Author's Note:**

> mostly done because of a log with phil and natasha, and it's all star's fault for making the idea stick in my head. SILLY FIC not to be taken seriously, doop doop. crossposted to tumblr, too.

She's heard that theme song before, she just doesn't know where, or when. It tugs at the back of her mind, familiar and itchy, leaving her not sure if it's a case of memories better left alone, or if it's just something she's mistaking. She makes it all of halfway through the hall in Clint's tiny apartment, before sighing and striding into his room, catching sight of Coulson with headphones in, feet kicked up in Clint's lap while Clint idly thumbs over the arch of his foot, massaging firmly. Even with the headphones, Coulson turns gracefully, looking entirely at ease with his work in his lap, sprawled across Clint's godawful ugly couch, and smiles faintly. “You owe me a mission report.” 

“I do.” Natasha moves to the other side, sliding over the edge and settling herself right against Clint's arm, frowning at the movie when she realizes it's an old one from years ago, which is why the music sounds faintly familiar. It's the equivalent of a soap opera, and for that, Clint gets a dirty look, as she presses her back to the couch and kicks her feet over his lap, mirroring Phil. “You don't have anything better to watch?” 

“I'm working on my Russian,” Clint drawls easily, with all the amusement in the world and it's clear that's probably not it in the slightest. “The girl there is gonna marry the hockey player, but he's in love with this girl from the start of the movie.” He rattles something off in Russian that's entirely inaccurate and makes absolutely no sense, and then beams at her, raising his eyebrows. “Or, y'know, something like that.” 

“He's making the film up as he goes along. I've got spare headphones and a tablet in my bag, if you aren't feeling particularly masochistic tonight, Romanoff.” 

Natasha rolls her eyes so hard she worries that she's going to see the back of her head and ignores the way Clint protests that this is an entirely legitimate use of his time, just like when he makes up pillow talk at three in the morning, in fractured Russian, talking about the sky and pigs and whatever other words he's picked up that have no relation to each other. 

“Pass me the tablet; I'll finish my report for you,” Natasha sighs at the grin on Clint's face, taking the tablet and opening up her profile on SHIELD's database to start the report, half-listening to what's going on in the movie while Clint munches on popcorn, and she provides translations here and there-- more ammo for late at night when he decides to pretend like he's a native speaker.


End file.
